


The Spirit of the Season

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's a little grumpy about the tinsel, and then he isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spirit of the Season

## The Spirit of the Season

#### by krossero

Author's website: <http://krossero-fic.livejournal.com>  
  
This was written for the TSSS prompt 'tinsel'. Thanks again to Elizabeth for the beta!  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

The Spirit of the Season  
Jim hates tinsel. It never stays on the tree where it belongs, and you always find it in the strangest places, months after the decorations are down. It's a pain in the ass, and if Jim's not careful, he zones big time on the crap. It's just so damn _bright_ \-- it gets him every time. Blair had gotten it anyway, this year, despite Jim's "grumblings". Jim had come home a few minutes ago to find the tree covered in the stuff; it had swayed delicately in the draft caused by Jim's entrance, making the Christmas tree look like it had come to life. He'd given Blair his best `how-dare-you-defy-me' glare, but Blair had just turned a smile as bright as the tinsel on him, asking what he thought. Jim won't admit it out loud, but the tree does look pretty good--it makes it seem like it had been barren before. And he sort of likes the way the tinsel twinkles and glints, sending tiny shards of light throughout the room. The shining specks land on everything, really--even the couch furthest from the tree seems to be glowing--but what Jim likes most, what has him entranced, is the way the pale beams get tangled in Blair's hair, bouncing from strand to strand, fading just a tiny bit with each leap, until they're practically invisible to even Jim's eyes... Blair gently shakes him, and Jim realizes he's zoned. "Dammit, Sandburg," he growls, "I _told_ you that tinsel crap would make me zone." Blair looks oddly pleased, for someone who's responsible for his friend's near-catatonia. "You weren't zoning on the tinsel, man." Jim doesn't bother explaining to Blair that it really _was_ because of the tinsel; it'll just result in a bunch of tests, and more questions about Jim's senses than he's comfortable answering. And besides, Jim's just noticed something even more captivating than the tinsel-light in Blair's curls-- the rich, musky-sweet scent of arousal is rising from his best friend, who Jim is just now realizing is still standing very, very close. That, combined with the obvious interest in Blair's eyes, is enough to make Jim finally take the step he's wanted to for so long--he leans down and discovers that Blair tastes of eggnog and peppermint and Christmas. Between increasingly passionate kisses, Jim decides that maybe tinsel isn't so bad, after all. 

* * *

End 

The Spirit of the Season by krossero: krossero@yahoo.com  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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